


A Quiet Kid

by BookGirlFan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Because of Reasons, Gen, deaged Enjolras, like not having enough of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookGirlFan/pseuds/BookGirlFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>No one expected Enjolras to be a quiet kid. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Really, no one expected Enjolras to be a kid at all, seeing as they knew him as a twenty two year old college student, so him being quiet should have been nothing compared to that. Still, it was surprising</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Kid

No one expected Enjolras to be a quiet kid. 

Really, no one expected Enjolras to be a kid at all, seeing as they knew him as a twenty two year old college student, so him being quiet should have been nothing compared to that. Still, it was surprising. For someone with so much passion and drive, who had previously been arrested for protesting and inciting a riot (even if he hadn't meant to), no one expected him to be so quiet and polite as a child. 

He said he was five, one of the few things they managed to get him to say, but looked younger. He had the same long blond hair as adult Enjolras, but curlier, and together with his big blue eyes made him look positively angelic. When they two of them had found him sitting on the floor of Enjolras' apartment those looks, along with his name, had been enough to convince him that yes, somehow Enjolras was now a child. A child that was now watching them quietly from a corner of the room.

"Is this as weird to you as it is to me?" Courfeyrac muttered lowly. 

"Do you mean Enjolras somehow being five, or how he's so quiet about it?" Combeferre asked in a similarly low tone, sneaking a glance at the blond, who looked away as he noticed Combeferre's gaze. 

"Both. Both is good," Courfeyrac decided. "I mean, Enjolras! Child! What? You've known him longer, was he really this quiet?" 

Combeferre shook his head thoughtfully. "He was older when we met, eight or nine. I do remember him being rather reserved, though. It was a long time ago, I'd mostly forgotten." 

Courfeyrac suddenly looked worried. "You don't think something's - wrong, do you?" 

"Like whatever changed him to a child has actually made him different?" Combeferre's eyebrows lowered in a thoughtful frown. "I don't think so. This is all so unknown, it's hard to tell, but in any traditional story I can think of, magic doesn't change a person's personality. I think Enjolras must have just been a very quiet five year old." 

"May I have some water?" The subject of their conversation piped up, distracting them both. At some point, Enjolras had moved from his seat and come closer, standing hesitantly just behind Courfeyrac's chair. 

Courfeyrac, recovering from his surprise, beamed at Enjolras, taking the child by the hand. "Of course! I should have thought to ask if there was anything you wanted. Juice? Food? Though knowing who lives here there probably won't be much of that," he added in a low tone.

Enjolras shook his head, golden curls bouncing. "Just water, please." 

"Of course!" Courfeyrac gave a smart salute, bringing a small smile to the little face. "One water, coming right up." He departed for the kitchen, leaving Combeferre alone with Enjolras for the first time since they'd found him.

An awkward silence descended. 

Combeferre sought out something to say, to break the silence. He'd never really been good with kids, and apparently the kid in question being a younger version of his best friend didn't actually help. "Are you always this quiet?" he ventured, then winced at the unintended rudeness. 

Enjolras didn't seem to mind. "Mummy and Daddy like me being quiet. Being loud is dis-trac-ting." He pronounced the word carefully, sounding out each syllable. 

"Really? Distracting how?" Combeferre watched, fascinated, as the question caused a wash of emotions to play out on the little face in front of him, so much more open than its older counterpart.

"They work. With money," Enjolras attempted to explain, brow furrowed as he tried to keep the concepts straight. "And it's really hard, and it makes them tired and sleepy, so when I'm really loud, that's bad. So I'm quiet." 

Combeferre chewed on his lip, thinking over what Enjolras said. Unable to pinpoint what exactly was bothering him, and sensing maybe he'd been silent a little too long, he reassured Enjolras, "Being loud isn't a bad thing. You can play around and have fun if you'd like to." 

Enjolras shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. He blew it away with a look of resignation too old for his face. "If I'm bad, Mummy and Daddy are sad," he explained calmly. "I don't like them being sad. It hurts." 

"They...hurt you?" Combeferre asked, almost as afraid to ask as he was to not.

Small lips curled up in a disgruntled pout. "No. That's silly. It hurts in here." He pointed to his chest. Combeferre was too carried away with relief to point out that his heart was actually located further to the left, and he was really pointing to his lungs. 

"Well, you can be as loud as you want with us, we won't mind, okay?" Combeferre tried to reassure him. Normally he knew Enjolras better than anyone, but this Enjolras was a discomfiting mix of familiar and not. "It won't make us sad. We just want you to be happy." 

Enjolras looked sceptical, but nodded.

Fortunately, before Combeferre needed to think of something else to say, Courfeyrac came back into the room. 

"Your water, my good sir." He bowed low in front of Enjolras, miraculously managing not to spill any of the water. Enjolras took the cup with a bright smile, the first one they had seen since they had found him, and enough to disarm them both completely.

Courfeyrac was the first to recover, matching Enjolras' smile with a cheeky grin of his own. "So, my young friend, you ready to go meet some people?" 

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Combeferre hastily interceded, seeing the smile disappear from Enjolras's face, to be replaced by a fleeting look of nervousness before his lower lip firmed in a show of bravado. "But we'd like you to meet them, and they aren't scary. They're friendly, and they'll want to meet you." 

"Yes, of course they would!" Courfeyrac affirmed, picking up on Enjolras' distress. "They-" He stopped, looking to Combeferre for guidance. There had been an implicit agreement in place ever since they found him that they would not let Enjolras know he used to be an adult. They couldn't help but let slip they knew an older Enjolras already, but this little Enjolras hadn't seemed to have connected the two and they had no intentions of doing it for him.

"They always like meeting new people," Combeferre interceded, acknowledging with a nod the grateful smile Courfeyrac shot his way. 

Enjolras considered this, lip protruding thoughtfully, then handed his cup back to Courfeyrac with a small smile. "Okay."


End file.
